


We keep this love in a photograph

by PiecesFallingFromMe



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Angst, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 00:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8348329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiecesFallingFromMe/pseuds/PiecesFallingFromMe
Summary: The things we keep with us, the memories we hold on to, they can speak volumes.





	

"Are you smoking?"

The familiar silhouette had caught my attention sitting on the base of one of the lamp posts in the parking lot, and as I approach in the dim light of the evening the blonde glances up, unlit cigarette dangling between two fingers. She shrugs half-heartedly, looking forward again into the mostly empty lot.

"You quit that years ago..."

"I probably won't. I just bummed it off one of the janitors."

I watch as she absently fiddles with it between her fingers, still not meeting my eyes, and I turn to head towards my car before something stops me - an innate pull that I still feel toward the other woman. A lot of things between us have changed in the last two years, but that never has.

"Are you...alright?"

She sits in silence for another minute before looking up when I come to stand directly in front of her. I catch a glimpse of something in her right hand - and feel my breath catch a little in surprise - before she slips it into the breast pocket of her jacket and lets out a heavy sigh.

"A little girl died on my table this afternoon."

Deaths in Peds aren't uncommon, I know they're not - they're not uncommon in any wing of this hospital - but they hit especially hard. Especially with Arizona. And so I find myself instinctively reaching out to slide my hand over her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"I'm sorry."

She straightens her spine a little, leaning her head back against the lamp post.

"It's ok. You don't have to-"

Her voice trails off as she glances down at my hand and she shakes her head, a defeated look clouding her eyes.

"She was only five years old."

My mind immediately goes to our own almost-five-year-old and I sigh, understanding the pain of being both a surgeon and a mother. It was never something she talked about much, even when we were married, but I always knew that things changed for her after we had Sofia. Despite her utmost professionalism, and her unmatched ability to compartmentalize, things became...just a touch more personal for her. They hit a touch closer to home. She used to come to me after she'd had a day like this. Sometimes she'd just find me at the hospital and we'd sit for awhile in a quiet on-call room, or she'd come home at night and just silently crawl into bed beside me, curling up close. And I always knew - I just knew, somehow - exactly what she needed.

I miss wrapping her up in my arms and making it all go away.

I miss _her._

"You can...still talk to me, you know. If you want to."

"It's okay, Callie."

She twirls the cigarette between her fingers once more before reaching up and tossing it into the trashcan a few feet away.

"What were you looking at just now?"

I wasn't going to ask - I really wasn't. I'm pretty sure I saw what she slipped into her pocket when I came over, but a part of me feels the need to inquire anyway. Feels the need to know if it _was_ what I thought. The blonde glances up again and I bite my lip when blue eyes meet mine, their intensity evident even in the dim light.

"Nothing."

"Arizona..."

I reach for her jacket pocket as if I still have permission to touch her, to know what she's thinking, and although she doesn't pull away, she stills my hand with hers when my fingers slip inside.

"Callie, leave it."

But it's too late. I know I'm pushing the boundary we've put up between us, but suddenly I don't really care. I'm tired of pretending like we're friends, like we're _just_ friends, like we ever could be; I haven't been able to stop thinking about her for months. My fingertips reach the small, thick piece of paper, and I slide it out, turning it over to confirm that the glimpse I'd had earlier was right. Arizona shakes her head, letting out a slight huff of a laugh, and runs a hand through her already unruly waves of hair as I look down at it.

It's a photograph of the two of us.

One of those little ones, from the photobooth at the mall. Arizona always loved that thing - almost every time we passed by it, she insisted on scrounging together enough dollar bills to pull me behind the curtain despite my protests. We usually went for goofy and ended up laughing, or aiming for sappy cheek kisses and other teenage-reminiscent poses, but every now and again we got a truly beautiful picture of the two of us - this one included. I remember this day as I look down at the small, slightly worn photo. We'd taken it the week before the plane crash.

She'd been upset about Nick, and everything else happening that week, and I'd taken her out for dinner and retail therapy while Mark watched Sofia. By the time we reached the photobooth she was all smiles, and in the brief moment captured in time by this photo - our arms wrapped around each other, cheeks pressed together - we look completely, blissfully happy. Happy and in love.

"It's nothing."

She snatches it back with deft fingers, slipping it back into the wallet that rests on her lap.

"You still carry a picture of us?"

My voice is small as I ask her, quiet in the looming space around us. I'm genuinely surprised, and I can feel my heartbeat speed up at the possible implications - if it was a picture with Sofia I would understand, but...it's a picture of us. Just the two of us.

She doesn't answer, just giving me a little shrug and a half-smile, and I can see the emotions flitting across her eyes, a deep sadness of a different kind crossing her features ever so briefly. I never expected she would feel that anymore. Never expected she _could_ feel that anymore - not about us. When she speaks, her tone is soft, and it feels like suddenly everything is changing - like this moment is everything I didn't even know I'd been waiting for. Like it's a sign.

"Can't let it go, I guess."

I reach into my own bag and pull out my wallet, unzipping it and letting my fingers slip into the inner pocket. I feel the bent corner, and the slightly textured paper, and I pull out another small photograph - another of the four from that very set.

"Me neither."

I respond softly, holding it out for her to see. The surprise is evident in her eyes, but it's true. I thought I'd be able to let us go, thought it would be for our own good. I've tried - god knows I have tried, and I even managed two months with Penny - but somewhere, something inside my heart never truly wanted to give up the woman in front of me.

But I never expected that she still felt the same way too.

"That was such a good day," I look down at the matching photos - mine showing us in a similar pose, except she's turned to kiss my cheek - and smile a little, almost hopefully, "I miss that."

"Just not enough."

She reaches up and swipes at the corner of her eye where tears are trying to gather, and shoves her wallet into her bag, finally standing to leave.

"Have dinner with me."

The words are out of my mouth before I really think about what I'm saying, but I look at her, nervousness rapidly blooming alongside hope in my chest. I really want her to say yes.

I've come to realize, over the last six months or so, that I never fell out of love with Arizona. Or maybe I did, and now I'm falling _back_ in love with her, with the person she's become. Because she has changed - it's clear, being friends with her, being colleagues with her - it's clear that she's changed in a lot of ways from the woman who came rolling into my life seven years ago. But who she's become...is even more miraculous. She's beautiful, and strong, and amazing, and there are so many things I remember loving before, and new things I'm starting to love already, and...I need her in my life again.

I want her. More than I've ever wanted anyone.

"It's been almost two years, Calliope..." she replies quietly, my name tumbling from her lips with a sudden depth of emotion, "I don't think we should do this...I can't..."

And I get it, I do. I can see that she's hesitant and I can't blame her - I broke her heart, right along with my own. But things can be different this time. _We're_ different.

"Arizona."

I slip the photo of us into my jeans pocket and forget about it. I take the old us off the table, put us out of sight. Not forgotten - never forgotten - but right now, what I want is the start of something new. Right now, I want to think about our future, not our past.

"I'd really like to take you to dinner. Like a-" I hesitate a moment, watching her as she studies me, but I know that this might be my one and only chance, "Like a date. I know a great little place for a first date."

Blue eyes search mine, surprise evident along with a little wariness, and she bites her lip just slightly as she considers my words.

I haven't felt this nervous in years.

"A date..." she speaks slowly, still weighing the possibilities, but then a smile starts to tug at the corner of her lips, "you know, you kind of remind me of someone I used to know."

"You know what? You do too. And I...I like you. _Really_ like you."

I smile confidently then and she matches it with her own, lighting up the space around us like only she can. A lot of things have changed - we've both changed - but in my heart I know there's at least one thing that will always be the same. She completes me. We are made for each other.

And I think we're about to start something new and amazing.

I think we're going to fall in love all over again.

"I like you too."

.

.


End file.
